


Can We Fix It?

by Dracothelizard



Category: Horrible Histories RPF
Genre: Cooking, DIY, Domestic, M/M, Sexy Handymen, Terrible Innuendos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 13:34:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11441961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracothelizard/pseuds/Dracothelizard
Summary: Written for the HHanon kinkmeme back in 2011.Prompt:  Simon/Ben, builder!simon auSimon is a builder (or plumber/electrician if easier to write) that Ben has hired to do some work on his house.(I ignored the entire AU thing, but left it the DIY skills)





	Can We Fix It?

**Author's Note:**

> None of this ever happened, obviously.

When Ben explained about the problem he had with his kitchen drain and how he had already tried unclogging it with a plunger _and_ drain cleaner, he expected two things: 1 - some sympathy and jokes, and 2 - the number of a good plumber.  
  
He did not expect Simon to say, "I can take a look at it tomorrow, if you like."  
  
"Really?" Ben asked, and frowned. He knew Simon was better at DIY than he was - to be honest, most people were - but plumbing? "You can do that?"  
  
He must've sounded very doubtful, because Simon looked unimpressed. "Well, yes, Ben. I've lived in a few shitty flats over the years, and it's either learn how to fix your plumbing or deal with not being able to flush the loo."   
  
Ben thought that was some excellent motivation. "Right."  
  
"And you can't live with that for more than a week," Simon told him, in a manner that suggested this was from his own experience. "Look, if it's something simple, I'll know how to fix it. If it's not, you can get a plumber."   
  
"I know a decent one," Jim added. "Not expensive either."   
  
He took the plumber's details from Jim, as he agreed with Simon he'd be by tomorrow in the afternoon.   
  
"Glad that's settled," Ben said, as Simon went off to make-up.  
  
Jim looked thoughtful. "You know, plumber coming by to fix your pipes..." he mused. "This is how terrible porn films start."  
  
Ben flushed a little, and hit Jim over the head with his script. "Shut up."  
  
Jim rubbed his head, but smirked. "Could be worse, he could turn up with pizza as well, right after you've come out of the shower. That's probably a porn film hat trick."  
  
"Stop. Talking. Please." Ben hit him with his script again, this time on the arm. "Oh God, the mental images." He turned redder, thoughts of Simon turning up tomorrow with some terrible 80s 'stache and a sagging pair of jeans to show off his builder’s bum.   
  
Jim just laughed. "Have fun with the next scene!"   
  
Ben had his eyes closed, trying to ward off the mental images of terrible moustaches and Simon's builder’s bum, which wouldn't be a terrible thing _at all_ , as it was a nice one as bums went. Not that he gave Simon's bum much thought. At all. Compared to how much he thought about other things, like cricket, remembering his lines, wondering what to eat that evening and worrying about global warming, thoughts about Simon's bum were... were probably in the top ten. _Low_ in the top ten, though, as Ben had priorities.  
  
As if anything was ever going to be more important than cricket.

*

Ben surveyed the chaos that was his kitchen, and sighed. He couldn't exactly clean it, not with his drain problem, and most of the dishes were still on the counter. Simon was clearly going to think he was a slob, even if the rest of the house was clean and the worst of the dishes had been cleaned in the bathroom sink.   
  
Thank God it didn't seem to be some sort of central problem.   
  
He was wondering if perhaps it wasn't better to take all the dirty mugs and plates to the bathroom sink and leave them there, when his doorbell rang. "Simon!" he said, smiling.  
  
Simon smiled back, and entered the hallway. Thankfully, he didn't have a terrible moustache or sagging jeans. In fact, the jeans were fitting him nicely. Very nicely. "Hey, I've brought my tools," he said, lifting up a metal box. "I didn't know what you had, so, better safe than sorry."   
  
Ben nodded, and raised his gaze. "No, I've only got some basic things. A few screwdrivers, a hammer... that sort of thing."  
  
"How do you even survive?" Simon asked, looking at him with some pity. "Right, kitchen?"  
  
Ben led the way. "I make sure to buy things that don't fall apart," he replied, just a little annoyed by Simon's comment.   
  
"Except for your kitchen sink," Simon told him calmly.  
  
"Yes, except for that." Ben entered his kitchen, nodding at the sink. "What do you think?"  
  
Simon put the toolbox on the counter, shoving away some of the dirty plates. He peered into the dish suspiciously, then nodded. "Let's try a plunger first."   
  
Ben left to get his plunger from the broom cupboard. "I already tried that!" he called out.  
  
"Maybe not hard enough! Or maybe you loosened it up for me!" Simon shouted back.  
  
There was something to be said for that, and he gave Simon the plunger. "You know, if it gets unclogged because of some - some _plunging_ , I'm going to feel like a massive idiot."   
  
"No changes there, then," Simon muttered to himself, but he flashed Ben a smile as he placed the plunger over the hole.   
  
"I _was_ going to offer you a cup of tea, but I don't think I'll bother now," Ben replied. He leaned against the counter, trying to keep his eyes on the plunger to see if it was helping, but then Simon was wearing a t-shirt and he had arms. It was easy to forget sometimes, as Simon was often wearing loose shirts or jackets, but Ben thought that made the infrequent reminders all the nicer.   
  
Simon kept up the plunging stubbornly. "Some host you are," he grumbled, eyes on the sink. "Come on, you bastard!"   
  
Ben raised an eyebrow, even though he knew perfectly well Simon wasn't talking to him. "You're not having tea until you've fixed my sink _or_ given up and called a real plunger."   
  
Simon paused for a moment. "What about a biscuit?"   
  
"Those I can do," Ben said, grabbing a tin from a cupboard.

*

Simon had given up on the plunger, though Ben had to admit he had kept with it far longer than Ben had, and was now lying on his back under the sink to get the trap out.  
  
"It's probably clogged in there," Simon informed. "That's where things usually get stuck."   
  
"That's good to know," Ben replied, determinedly not staring at the small strip of stomach visible above Simon's jeans. He could see why plumbers and handymen were so popular in pornfilms. There _was_ something very appealing about someone being good with their hands. In more than one way. Not that Ben had given that much thought. "Anything you need?" he asked. He had to do something apart from provide Simon with biscuits.  
  
"A bucket'd be nice," Simon replied. "Oh, and did you chuck any drain cleaner down here?"  
  
"Yeah." He grabbed a bucket from another kitchen cupboard. "Why?"  
  
"I'll need some gloves too, then."  
  
Right, right, of course. That drain cleaner stuff was pretty toxic. Ben grabbed a pair of Marigolds, and sat down to watch Simon. "How's it going?" he asked.  
  
Simon carefully slid out and sat up. "Almost out, just wanted to get the gloves and the bucket first." He smiled. "Funny how you're better prepared for cleaning than for DIY."   
  
"Cleaning happens more often," Ben replied, watching as Simon put the gloves on and placed the bucket underneath the pipes. "So, er, this should solve it?"  
  
"Hopefully." Simon fiddled with the pipes some more, and then carefully removed the U-shaped bit as he sat back to watch water drain from the sink. "That's why I needed the bucket."  
  
Ben was more preoccupied with the stench from the bit of pipe Simon was holding. "That's where the clog is?"  
  
"Smells like it," Simon told him. He peered into it. "I think I can see something."   
  
Ben sat back, covering his nose with his hand. "Is it a decomposing skunk?"   
  
Simon gave him a small smile. "This is _nothing_ compared to what I once got out the trap of my old student flat." He tried prodding the plug out with his fingers, something that must've been disgusting even with the gloves.   
  
Ben was definitely getting new ones after this. "Really?"   
  
He nodded. "Hm, massive clumps of hair, stale beer. Piss, obviously. Curry remains. Oh, and the usual unknown goo." He smiled to Ben. "There are some things that man was not meant to know."   
  
"I can see that," Ben replied, weakly. "I don't think that's working."  
  
"Yeah, I'm gonna have to use a screwdriver for this one." Simon took one, and started prodding away again.   
  
"I owe you," Ben told him while Simon continued to work on the trap. The plug was starting to come out as well, chunks falling into the bucket. "Seriously, dinner, or something."  
  
Simon shrugged. "You can get some takeaway. Been ages since I had a good pizza."   
  
Ben stared at him. This deserved more than takeaway. "Fine, I'll make one." Once he had the use of his kitchen sink again, making a pizza would be easy. "I've got all the ingredients, unless you want very weird toppings."  
  
Simon looked meaningfully at the chunks in the bucket. "Well..."   
  
Ben laughed. "Oh, don't think I won't."  
  
"You really want to make pizza for me?" Simon asked, glancing at him.  
  
"Yes, it's no problem," Ben told him. "You spend more time waiting for it in the oven than preparing, honest." Besides, he had to show his gratitude somehow, and this meant having Simon around for a bit longer.   
  
Simon nodded, and focused on the trap again. "All right, pizza it is."

*

Once the sink was back in one piece and Simon tested it by washing his hands, they were pretty pleased. "So, I guess it's your turn now, unless you have other DIY chores you haven't got round to."  
  
He wasn't entirely sure if the offer was serious, but what the hell. "Well, there's a shelf in my office that needs to be put up." And it was something he could do. Mostly. Probably. But Simon was a lot better at it.  
  
Simon just sighed. "A shelf, Ben? Really?"  
  
Ben turned to his kitchen cupboards to start looking for the ingredients. "Well, if you don't want to do it, that's fine."   
  
"No, no, I'll do it. Just - putting up a shelf is so easy. A child could do it."   
  
Ben gave Simon a look. "A child?"  
  
"A very precocious child with an adult supervisor." Simon picked up his toolbox. "Right, come on, show me where you want the shelf, then."   
  
*  
  
Explaining where the shelf exactly had to go apparently required Simon to stand very close to him, Ben realised. "So, er, against that wall," he said. "And then, well, same height as the one next to it, really."   
  
"Right," Simon said, close to Ben's ear. "No problem." He gave Ben a pat on the shoulder. "Just leave me to it, all right? I'll let you know if I need your help."  
  
Ben went to stand in the doorway, relieved for a moment to have some space to himself. A lot less awkward. "My help?" he asked.   
  
"Yeah," Simon replied, eyeing the wall. "But I'll let you know." He grinned at Ben. "Get started on that pizza already."   
  
Right, pizza. That he could do.   
  
*  
  
He'd just finished with the dough when Simon called for him, and told him to bring the vacuum cleaner.   
  
"Why?" he asked, after he had washed his hands and grabbed the vacuum cleaner from the broom cupboard.  
  
Simon was standing there, drill in his hands. "You ever done this before?" he asked. "Trust me, bits of walls're gonna come out, and knowing you, you want as little mess as possible."  
  
"Of course," Ben replied, starting to see where the vacuum cleaner was going to come in. "So I start vacuuming when you start drilling, then?"  
  
"Yep." Simon grinned. "Ready?"   
  
*  
  
It wasn't difficult, keeping the hose near the place where Simon was drilling, and considering the bits of wall that were coming out, the vacuuming did work.   
  
It also involved being very close to Simon again, which was awkward, but at least Simon was busy with drilling rather than with Ben, except to tell him to keep the hose in place.   
  
Ben kept glancing at Simon's face more often than not. It was unusual to see him so focused, a look of determination that was uncommon but highly appreciated. "Do this often, then?" he said, raising his voice over the drilling.  
  
"When necessary," Simon replied, then stopped to move to last spot. "So, if you have any more shelves..."  
  
He shook his head, getting the hose in position. "No, this should be the last of it."   
  
"Good, but this is going to take more than pizza," Simon informed him.  
  
Suppressing the first ideas he had to repay Simon, he went with a safer option. "Cake? For dessert?" he suggested. "I'm using the oven anyway."   
  
"You'll bake me a cake for putting up a shelf?"   
  
"Seems fair," Ben replied. Baking, unlike DIY, was easy.

*

Simon was done with the shelf before Ben was done baking and he sat in the kitchen, watching Ben and waiting for the pizza to be done in the oven. "So, what d'you put on it?" he asked, sipping from his coffee.  
  
"Well, you only said it had to have pine apples and cheese," Ben told him, peeling the apples. Apple pie was nice and simple, and it'd be good for dessert. "So it's got plenty of those on, and then I figured I'd also throw on peppers, some mushrooms, salami, slices of ham and chicken, olives, artichokes, and the usual herbs on top. And you didn't say what kind of cheese, so I just went for mozzarella and some regular cheddar." He turned to glance at Simon. "That all right?"  
  
"I - yeah, it's fine. You have all that stuff lying around anyway?" Simon asked. "The mozzarella?"   
  
"Yeah, you can use it in a lot of things," Ben replied, going back to his apples. "Lasagna, other types of pasta..."   
  
"Next time I need to know what wine to serve with chicken, I'm calling you," Simon told him.  
  
"A Merlot's good for that," he said, giving it a little thought. "But you could also-"  
  
Simon had burst out laughing behind him. "Oh God, you actually know that?" he asked, in between sniggers. "You don't need to look it up?"   
  
"Yes, well," he started, and he could feel his ears go red, and he was going to _ignore_ Simon's laughter. "I do. Because you can serve Merlot with a lot of things."   
  
"Are we having a Merlot with the pizza, then?" Simon asked, clearly still sniggering.   
  
It wouldn't be a bad match, Ben figured. But then, it might not work so well with the pineapple, and he hadn't put on that much meat. He smiled. "Oh, Simon, don't be _silly_ ," he said, adding a level of poshness to his voice. "You don't have _Merlot_ with a pizza. It's _common_."  
  
This led to another burst of giggles behind him. "Sorry, what were I thinking?" Simon said, his accent broader than usual.   
  
"You can have a nice Riesling. Or," he added, back to his normal voice, "a beer."  
  
"I'll have a beer, thanks, mate."   
  
The oven let them know the pizza was done, and as Ben pulled the door open, Simon grinned at the smell.   
  
"Looks good."  
  
Ben smiled, and if he was just a bit too pleased with Simon's compliment, well, that was his business entirely.

*

After finishing the apple pie and putting that in the oven, Ben spent a few minutes cutting up his pizza and watching Simon attempt to take bites off his slice. "Are you sure you don't want to try cutting it into smaller bits?" Ben said, sniggering as half the toppings fell on the plate and Simon looked absolutely crushed for a second.   
  
"No. You eat pizza with your hands, as a slice," Simon informed him. "None of this - this _faffing about_ with cutlery."   
  
Ben just raised one eyebrow pointedly, and speared one small bit of pizza with his fork before eating it. "Mmm, all the toppings, delicious."   
  
Simon had added the fallen artichokes and pineapple back on - with his hands, obviously - and was now picking up the slice carefully. "Stop being smug, Willbond."   
  
"Go on," Ben said, and he sipped from his wine. He leaned forward, looking at Simon expectantly.   
  
Simon's eyes went from his pizza to Ben. "This'll work," he said, as he focused on his pizza and slowly bit a piece off, this time without anything falling.  
  
Ben gave him a nod and sat back to applaud briefly. "Well done, Farno," he said. "Well done."   
  
Simon swallowed, and smirked. "Shut up." He took a sip from his beer, then sucked the remainders of the tomato sauce off his thumb. "Just because you're afraid of getting dirty." He glanced significantly at the napkins Ben had provided him with.   
  
He resisted to urge to say he was _more_ than fine with getting dirty. "It's called 'manners'."   
  
Simon shrugged, and prepared to eat another bite. "It's a pizza. A bit of mess is _expected_." He grinned at Ben. "Part of the fun."  
  
"You've got tomato sauce on you," Ben just replied, gesturing vaguely at Simon's cheek.   
  
"So?" Simon took another bite, adding tomato sauce to his nose. "I'll wipe it once I'm finished."  
  
Ben took another bite from his pizza, slightly annoyed. "Just clean it off, Simon."   
  
"No," Simon said pointedly, and smirked.   
  
He cut off another bit of pizza, and ate it. "You're being ridiculous."   
  
Simon just smiled. "I know." He had another drink from his beer before stuffing the rest of the pizza slice in his mouth.  
  
"Idiot," Ben muttered, but he had to smile a little. "You're going to be covered in sauce by the time you're finished."   
  
"And what're you going to do about it, Ben?" Simon asked, leaning forward and smirking.   
  
Ben sat back, and sipped from his wine. Simon wasn't flirting, Simon was being annoying and trying to get a rise out of him. His own harmless crush was fine, noting that Simon looked good in a World War I army uniform was fine, being a bit too happy about being in a sketch with him was fine, realising that Simon being good at DIY was attractive was fine. Leaping across the table to lick tomato sauce off his face was _not_ fine. Instead, he put his glass of wine back on the table, and smiled pleasantly. "Wait for you to realise how daft you look."

*

While Ben desperately wanted to do the dishes, he thought it was a bit much to have Simon help him with that as well. Besides, the idea of doing something as ridiculously domestic as that made his stomach squirm. Today had been bad enough in that respect, having Simon fix things while he cooked. Ben had been one apron and a floral dress away from being in a repressed fifties marriage.   
  
Stick to it being a simple crush, and don't ever consider it could be something more.  
  
"I think the apple pie is ready," he said, piling the plates in the sink.   
  
Behind him, Simon leaned back on his chair and stretched. "God, I'm full as it is."   
  
He turned to face Simon. "Oh, well, you don't have to eat it." Glancing at the clock, he realised Simon had been here for hours. "I mean, if you want to go home for the evening..."   
  
"D'you want me to go?" Simon asked, still leaning back.   
  
Ben busied himself getting the pie out of the oven, anything to disguise his nerves. "No, no, of course not," he said. "Just, y'know, if you had anything else on."  
  
"Not really," Simon replied. "How's the pie? It smells delicious."  
  
"It looks good." Ben slowly pulled it out. It was the right golden-brown colour. "And I thought you were full?"   
  
Simon eyed the pie, and smiled. "There's always room for something." He patted his stomach. "And maybe a coffee?"   
  
He looked so ridiculously hopeful that Ben had to laugh. "Yes, you can have a coffee."   
  
"Brilliant," Simon said, and stood up. "Living room?"   
  
Ben nodded, slightly dazed. Despite being full, despite having been here for hours, Simon was showing no sign of leaving. He carefully cut two slices of pie, telling himself to just enjoy this while it lasted.

*

One slice of pie and a coffee turned into a few beers, and Ben was surprised to find that Simon was _still_ not showing any sign of leaving. "You've been here for hours," he said eventually.  
  
Simon raised an eyebrow at him. "Do you want me to leave?"  
  
Seeing as how they were sitting companionably and close together on the sofa, Ben really didn't. "No!" he said swiftly. "Y'know, unless you want to."   
  
"I'm fine here," Simon replied, and started to pick at the label on his beer bottle. "'s been quite nice, hasn't it, today?"   
  
Ben nodded. "Thanks for fixing my sink again," he said, nudging Simon gently. "And putting up my shelf."  
  
"No problem, you hopeless posh boy," Simon replied, and gave him a wink. "Thanks for the pizza and the pie, they were brilliant."   
  
"Not so hopeless with the cooking, hm?" Ben said smugly. Simon had praised the apple pie for some time, which had made him feel annoyingly flustered.   
  
"Definitely not." Simon smiled at him warmly.  
  
Ben decided he may as well go for it now, courage born from drinking and smiling and Simon going above and beyond today. "We should do this more often."   
  
"What, get your drains clogged?"  
  
"No, _this_ ," Ben said, gesturing at the beer. "I mean, you said it was nice." Which wasn't exactly high praise, considering. He shouldn't have suggested it, should've just left it.   
  
"Hmm, I did," Simon replied, and sagged further down on the sofa, getting more comfortable. "'s a good idea."   
  
He could ignore the fluttering in his chest, he could. "You think?"   
  
"Yeah," Simon said, shifting a little closer. "But," he added, pulling part of the label off his bottle, "I may have a better idea." He looked up at Ben, and slowly leaned in.  
  
This wasn't happening. It wasn't. It was a joke, or a prank, or something, but Ben couldn't help leaning in himself.  
  
The kiss was a lot awkward and a little uncomfortable, but it was a _kiss_ , which was all that really mattered.

"So..." Simon pulled back a bit.  
  
"Yeah," Ben replied, wishing his brain would produce something more useful.  
  
"Hmm."  
  
"Want to do that again?" Definitely something useful.   
  
Simon grinned at him, before what Ben could only describe as _pouncing_.   
  
He let out an 'Oi!' as Simon ended up on top of him on the sofa. "Care-mmpf." He was smothered by a more enthusiastic kiss this time.  
  
"What?" Simon asked, leaning on one elbow beside Ben, his other hand cupping Ben's jaw to keep him in place for another kiss. "You said I could do it again."   
  
And now that he was lying down comfortably, he didn't _really_ mind. "Bit of warning would've been nice," he muttered. His mind was still reeling from Simon kissing him in the first place.   
  
"Consider yourself warned now," Simon muttered, kissing him again. "That's more warning than I got."  
  
"You pounced me," Ben said, a little confused. "Why would you need a warning?"  
  
Simon snorted. "Duh, for when you were being a sexy chef earlier, with your pans and your knives and your ingredients." He started kiss down Ben's jaw.   
  
"Wait a minute." Ben tilted his head to give Simon more space. " _Sexy chef?_ "  
  
"Yeah," Simon said, leaning back up. "A man's love goes through his stomach, and all that."  
  
He blinked. " _Cooking_ does it for you?"   
  
Simon shrugged. "Well, yeah. When you get all focused on your ingredients and getting it right, it's sexy. And the amazing food is just a bonus."   
  
This was... this was annoying. "You couldn't have told me that sooner?" A few months ago would've been nice. "And cooking isn't sexy."   
  
"Is."  
  
"Isn't."  
  
"Is."  
  
"Isn't!"  
  
"Is." Simon leaned down to kiss him, and eventually pulled back to grin at a slightly breathless Ben. "I win."

Ben glared at him momentarily, then realised how to get even. "Fine, mister sexy handyman, coming to fix my pipes."   
  
"I - what?" Simon looked confused.  
  
Ben just smirked. "You heard me. _Sexy handyman_." He was quite pleased to note that Simon was turning _red_.   
  
"How was _that_ sexy?" he argued. "I got the most disgusting mess out of your pipes, and then put up a shelf."   
  
How was he supposed to describe it? "Competence is very sexy, Simon. Besides, why do you think plumbers are so popular in porn?"   
  
"That's more to do with double entendres than with sexy DIYing," Simon grumbled, but he was still red.   
  
Ben grinned. "There's just something about a man who knows how to handle a big wrench."   
  
"I'll _show_ you a big wrench!"   
  
"Oooh, going to sort out my pipes, are you?" Ben replied, having far too much fun with the innuendos.   
  
"They'd better not be clogged."  
  
Oh God, that gave him mental images he didn't want. "That's disgusting."   
  
"I know." Simon smirked smugly. "Shall we compromise and agree on each other's sexiness?"   
  
Ben could definitely do that.


End file.
